The Sultan - Boredom in the Boudoir

"There just wasn't enough water" thought the Sultan. He was in his Boudoir, alone. His intense gaze was fixed at the far corner of the ceiling but he saw nothing. Many thoughts were jostling for attention in his mind.

He was in his favorite chair brought all the way from Persia. It had the softest upholstery and he felt suspended in thin air as he tried to sink deeper into it."They make very good things there...." murmured the Sultan and immediately looked around if anybody had heard him talk to himself. Of course there was no one and remembered having instructed all to be left undisturbed. But he knew there lurked just outside, his slave of many years, for a clap, the sound of his clearing throat or the rustle of his clothes.

Sometimes the Sultan was astonished at this slave, was even afraid of him secretly and believed he could read his mind......Many a time, even as he struggled within to find the right words to ask for something, the slave would be there with the thing he wanted.

The plan was perfect. Being closer to the Deccan would have put an end to the persistent rebellions of his southern commanders. This was the reason he had wanted his Capital shifted from Delhi. But he was misunderstood from the beginning. The people had refused to move.

"Their arses grow roots" said the Sultan out loud and felt immediately ashamed. But it was true that it took a Royal proclamation and the threat of Death to get them moving.

Finally it was time to move and he had wanted Delhi searched to see if anyone refused to come. His Death threats had worked. Apart from a Blind man and a lame guy every one had packed up.
However people had refused to cooperate. "No water" they said which he could somewhat understand but they repeatedly said they did not "belong to Daulatabad" which he never understood. His own forefathers were from Persia. They had travelled far to this unknown land and with Valour and cunning had built this empire. Many of his wives were Hindus and this was now his home.

Alas, attacks by the Mongols had started almost immediately after his departure from Delhi. This was an even bigger threat than the fickle rebellions of his Dakhani Commanders and had the power to dismember his Empire. Finally he had to relent and shift back the entire population to Delhi.

The news he received from his spies in the South was not good. Things were not as he had imagined. All the bribes he had given his nobles had served no purpose. They had just grown fat and continued their intrigues against him. Some of them in Daulatabad were inciting his Commanders to break free from the Sultanate.

But the Sultan was determined to keep his territories intact. It had taken great effort by his father to reach thus far. And he had waged his own struggle to get at the throne though he did not want to particularly dwell on this aspect.
It pained him to think of his father. He was aware that people whispered among themselves that he had killed his father.( "Regicide? Patricide?" thought the Sultan ). But was it not true that a pavillion had collapsed on him causing him to Die instantly?

The Sultan felt sad and thirsty. He was now hunched forward and was staring at his slippers. His mouth had gone dry and he tried to swallow his spit but ended up coughing. He sat up straight only to see his Slave with a pitcher and glass. He stared at him blankly while the slave stood motionless. The Sultan was angry now. He had not asked for water. He wanted to shout and drive him out of the room but no sound ensued from his lips. Instead he raised his arm weakly and the very next instant found a glass of cool water in his fist.
After drinking deep he waved his slave away and saw him back out with his head bowed low to the ground.

There was a buzz in his ear now. Sometimes it was very faint but if he concentrated hard he could hear it. It was always there in the background and sometimes it roared. He felt very agitated at such times. He had not confided this to anyone but had furtively tried to find the reason for this.While talking with the Learned or travellers from other lands ( who were always pestering him for something or the other) he would casually allude to this unwelcome buzzing in his ear. He would say something like "I heard about a noble in Mandu who gets a ringing in his ear for no apparent reason...isn't that funny ?" and he would laugh loudly all the while hoping somebody in the group could explain why. But no one had any clue.

The Sultan realised with a pang of terror that he was skirting the real issue. He had to face it once for all. He was a true soldier. Anybody who had seen him in battle would vouchsafe it. He could sever a Man's head from his body with one stroke of his sword. He could out race anyone in the entire sub-continent on his steed.

Yes, he had to face it. There was a serious problem in the South. There was definite information that Zafar Khan in Daulatabad was planning to establish his own rule independent of him. "Ungrateful bastard" thought the Sultan. This Zafar Khan was planning to fortify Gulbarga down south, planning to make it his Capital. Sufi Pirs there could crown him and give him legitimacy. There was information from a very credible source in Persia that already a Pir, well known in the entire islamic world, had left for Hindustan.

The Sultan weighed his options.

An expedition to the South with his army involved lot of planning. More than that it required lot of money. With a sinking heart the Sultan realised his Coffers were nearly empty. His troops too were demoralised and he could not count on all his commanders to unwaveringly support him.......

He did not want to think about Money. Issuing Copper coins instead of Gold & Silver was a grand Idea far ahead of it's time. He knew that for sure. But they started to make counterfeits almost immediately. He had put many of the counterfeiters to Death but fakes only increased.

"One day people will definitely use token currency" thought the Sultan. He had to give back Silver coins for all the Copper coins that were brought to the treasury.There was no way to determine if the copper coins that the people brought in for exchange were minted at the Royal Mint or in their own kitchens. At the end of it all he was driven nearly to bankruptcy.

A prolonged drought had set in soon after making it difficult to collect taxes from Land owners which only made matters worse.

The Sultan by now had receded far into himself. He had bent forward and there was spittle at the corner of his mouth. He pulled it in with a loud snort and immediately regretted making the noise. This would bring in his slave and he did not want to see him just now. He wanted to be alone.But surprisingly the Slave did not venture inside.

Far away he could hear the Muezzin at the mosque calling the faithful to evening prayers. He was sweating but felt a slight chill and wanted to hug himself closer. He did not move and went on gazing at the tip of his sandals. Suddenly it dawned on him that his time was over. There was no point in struggling. He would have to hold on to whatever he can and pretend everything was fine..............